


Pairings

by cortchuzska



Series: Tickling sleeping dragons [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 23:56:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cortchuzska/pseuds/cortchuzska
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime and Oberyn without a partner for Hogwarts Yule Ball</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pairings

And here they were. Jaime Lannister, the youngest Quidditch Seeker in Hogwarts history, and looking dazzlingly the part as well, and he - to whom girls were never niggardly in giving. With no dates for the Yule Ball.

_Hufflepuff's curse, of course._

Yet, Oberyn had a plan. The hardest part, he knew, would be persuading Jaime.

“Why didn’t you ask Lysa Tully, yesterday?”

Oberyn had skilfully manoeuvred to sit her beside Jaime, at their House table.

“Lysa won’t agree. At dinner, she did not as much as talk to me.”

Better she didn’t, Oberyn thought: such a dotty badger.

“You bedazzled her.” He goaded him on. “She is just a bit shy.”

He deemed politic skipping he had found her oft times, in some of his favourite snuggle corners, playing come-into-my-castle with a first year Slytherin boy. Man was she loud! and little Petyr Baelish had a promising career.

“You'd better take my friendly advice, though. When asking a girl out, you don't want to talk out all the time about Bludgers and Snitches with another.”

The ungainly and big boned Gryffindor Chaser had passed by them, and Jaime had called her out.

“Where do you think you are going, Brienne?” He tapped on his bench. “Sit down.”

She stiffly refused. “My place is at my house table, Jaime.”

“Just tell me how did you win your wage. I knew you would. What did Renly stake?”

“A Bludger was before me, so I plunged down and - “ Brienne sat, and blurted out. “He is going take me to the Yule Ball.”

“Lucky boy.” Jaime snickered, and added with a sly smile “I wonder what did you bet, wench.” She kept sullenly silent, but Jaime just laughed and they were soon deep in conversation, squabbling about Quidditch.

Renly Baratheon. Oberyn looked at her with new eyes. For all her ugliness, Brienne the Beauty hanged out _a lot_ with the most handsome boys in Hogwarts.

\--o--

Jaime was unconcerned. “I will partner with my sister, and you can do just the same.”

“Cersei would not like them babbling out she is so desperate for a partner as to dance with her brother.”

_Nor would I like it either._

He didn't add she was not desperate at all; Rhaegar Targaryen was her quarry of choice, and if the ambush would fail, she had in Robert Baratheon her backup option. Between the two of them, Oberyn hoped he could be the lucky third one, if he only could get Jaime out of his way.

First-year students could not take part, so Lysa was free for the taking, that is for Jaime. He felt no remorse; he was actually doing him a favour: Jaime was too busy keeping suers' hands off his sister to lay his own on a girl. That's why he was such an awesome Seeker: pursuing his golden twin's suitors required the same skills needed to seize the Golden Snitch. Lysa was just right for Jaime; being cornered by her and a bit of grinding against a wall would serve him well.

As for Robert, Cersei's backup date, his best friend Ned had amazingly convinced him to invite his scrawny little sister Lyanna. Eddard Stark was not the brightest student, but he was stubborn as an aurochs.

His winning ace, though, was Elia: she had confided him Rhaegar Targaryen had asked her to the Ball. They had been sorted in the same house, studied together, and their friendship had steadily grown into quiet fondness.

Everything began at Divination class, attended jointly by Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Rhaegar and Elia sat at the same table, and became soon Professor Trelawney's pets.

“Miss Nymeros Martell, Mr Targaryen, would you be so kind as to read us your teacup? Open your Inner Eye, dear. ”

“A dragon.” said Rhaegar tentatively.

“No, I see three of them.” Elia corrected him.

“Queer omen!” gasped Professor Trelawney, and her eyes, already large behind her spectacles, widened. “Peer closer.”

Elia and Rhaegar dutifully stooped over their teacup. “A dragon with three heads.”

Professor Trelawney's clenched her shawl, her chains and pearls rattling softly. “I'm not about to scare you, my dear, but what is the three-headed dragon doing ?”

They leant closer.

“Nothing.” answered Rhaegar.

“Sleeping, maybe?” suggested Elia.

Professor Trelawney's bony fingers rearranged her sloping glasses on her nose bridge. “Swivel your cup again, counter-clockwise, if you would.”

Elia's and Rhaegar's heads were nearly touching.

“The dragon stirs, flutters is wings -”

“A storm in a teacup.” Jaime muttered to Oberyn, who stifled a laugh.

“The dragon wakes, flails his tail, and -”

“Let sleeping dragons lie: isn't it Hogwarts motto?” mocked Jaime, and Oberyn couldn't help chortling. “ _Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus.”_

“Mr Lannister, Mr Nymeros Martell, Divination is not anything to joke about.” Professor Trelawney sighed in a wounded voice, and frowned. “I foresee you will _not_ do better than your gifted sister: pray tell us what do you see in your tea.”

“Teats.” Oberyn flatly stated, without even glancing at his teacup bottom. “Would you have me to move around the cup and tell how they are bouncing?”

Professor Trelawney glowered, behind her huge glasses. “Oberyn Martell, to Professor Dumbledore's office.”

He sluggishly pushed himself to his feet, collected his things and sauntered over to the trapdoor.

After Divination, Jaime lounged on an armchair, and waited for him in Hufflepuff dormitory, browsing through a magazine. On its cover, a fluttering Golden Snitch morphed into the golden locks, cutting smile and glittering green eyes of Jaime Lannister. _Is he the promised Seeker?_

“Stop gloating, promise.” Oberyn slapped him on the shoulder and slumped back on his bed. “What news?”

“It took you ages. Why had you to say teats? It was plainly a snake. ”

“Come on, how could possibly a _snake_ get me out of Trelawney’s tearoom and to Hogwarts headmaster's office?” Oberyn huffed. “Divination is such a ruse.”

“I would hate Divination as well and try to sneak out if my sister were to play dragons and maidens so brazenly with Targaryen.”

Oberyn rolled up on the bed edge, and warned him, not so playfully.

“Jaime, you are Cersei Lannister's brother: don't you even dare call _my_ sister brazen.”

“Easy, Oberyn.” He went back to his reading. “By the way, according to _The Quibbler_ Dumbledore is gay.” Jaime said in utter disbelief.

“That’s old news.” Oberyn snorted. “Ever been to his office?”

Of course not, Jaime was too _perfect,_ too _prefect_ and too eager to win back his father approval to risk anything that could draw Professor Dumbledore's unwanted attention.

“Jaime, why do you think I never got expelled, despite being so often punished and summoned to the headmaster's office? You would say I tried my best.” Oberyn laughed loudly. “Because I'm even better at Potions than you are at Quidditch, and I got at least hundred and twelve percent on my exams? Don't be ridiculous.”

\--o--

“Who cares what they will babble about my sister? Let them bleat.”

“For once, don't play the overprotective brother. Give her room to breathe.”

“The crow calling the raven black. Was it me who got in a wizard’s duel with a seven-year boy, and nearly as large as a mountain troll?”

“I almost knocked him out.”

“You had the worst of it and wound up to the hospital wing instead of Dumbledore’s office as you are wont. What madness seized you, to unduly provoke Clegane?”

His black eyes squinted to onyx slits.

“I never unduly provoke anyone. He was... Most unkind to Elia.”

\--o--

His sister was not at her House table; it would be like her to fall ill before the Ball! Elia would spend more time in the sickroom than in the classroom, so Oberyn headed for the infirmary, wondering if she would recover in time, but she wasn't there either. He then resolved to head for the Ravenclaw dormitory, struggled to solve the day riddle and at last was in the Ravenclaw common room. Elia was sobbing, curled up in armchair by the fireplace.

He sat cross-legged on the rug before her, and took her hands.

“What's wrong, Elia: Gregor Clegane again?” Oberyn clenched his jaw. “This time, I'm going to kill him.”

“No.. Rhaegar.”

Rhaegar Targaryen, though not hard to look upon, was a helplessly melancholic bookworm. Not the kind of guy who would make a girl weep.

“Lyanna.” She cried louder “He is going with her.”

No use to ask where.

Damn it. That left Cersei's backup unmatched, and by rights the forlorn partners should show up at the party together; but a lout the likes of Robert would do for a wild Stark girl, rumoured to be an Animagus as most of her kin, who had once tried to convince Filch her pet direwolf was just an overgrown rat. Not at all for his delicate sister: he would likely overdrink and end up in a melee.

“Jaime, may I be so cheeky, if you have no better option? After a petty argument, her date is no longer taking Elia to the Ball, and I can't bear having her so downcast; you love your sister well, you understand for sure. I could partner with her myself, but it's not going to make him jealous. I wonder if you could, for our friendship sake...”


End file.
